The Old Van
by Bunny Wilde
Summary: Bender never thought he would actually want someone who understands. Bender/Basketcase.
1. Chapter 1

There was a dent in the wall where he'd punched it.

Honestly, looking at his fist, he couldn't believe it was just a dent, and not a hole.

'Fuck this,' he muttered, as he haphazardly wrapped the bandage he'd grabbed from the bathroom around his hand, and threw himself on his bed. He yanked open the drawer to his bedside table, grabbed the bottle of Jack, and toyed with the cap, twisting it on and off.

He stared up at the ceiling. The same pale grey as the four walls. A lighter shade than the grey of the carpet, which might have been a different colour at some point, not that he could remember it. He could barely see the damn thing through all the clothes on the floor anyway.

Yup. Clothes on the floor. There might have actually been some in the closet, too, who fucking knew anymore. And shit all over his bedside table, the only other horizontal surface in his little cell besides his bed. He might clean it someday. Ha.

He finally uncapped the bottle and lifted it high toward the ceiling.

'Well, here's to you, fucker.'

As he threw the shot back, Bender wasn't even sure if this time he meant his father, or himself.

* * *

'So, what're you doing this Saturday?'

Claire was waiting expectantly for an answer as she took a drag rolled cig Bender had handed her, leaned back against the bleacher bench behind her, and exhaled. Bender wasn't sure why he didn't give her one right away. He was scratching on some bit of dirt he'd found on his glove.

'John?'

John. She called him John now. All the time.

'No idea,' he said finally, taking the cig back.

'Well...' started Claire, toeing the dirt, and Bender could almost hear the shrug in her voice, her forced nonchalance, 'we could go do something. You know. Go out? Allison and Andy are seeing a movie.'

'They are, huh?' he muttered. 'Who knew they'd still be all cutesy and cuddly after all this time.'

It had only been three weeks since the bizarre experience that had been Saturday detention. Still, he'd been willing to bet that at this point, the jock would have caved to the pressure and left Allison, and that he himself would have managed to get into Claire's panties.

Neither was so far true.

'So?' Claire pressed. 'What do you think? We could double.'

'Yeah, I guess,' said Bender, taking a long drag.

'Great,' said Claire, but she still seemed bothered. She was quiet for just a moment more; then she gently grabbed his bandaged hand, and pulling it up between them.

'What happened?'

He looked at her, and pulled his hand out of her grip.

'Just some bullshit that happened at home,' he grumbled, taking another drag. 'Same old. Doesn't fucking matter.'

He knew he'd made her uncomfortable. He could practically see her squirming. It wasn't fair of him, really. She was such a sheltered little princess. She couldn't handle his reality. It wasn't right of him to expect it from her.

'So, I think they're going to see some slasher film,' Claire continued, leaning back against the bleacher bench again and looking out at the field. 'Something that just came out, I can't remember the name...'

Bender nodded absently. He handed her the cigarette, and looked out at the field as well. They were both staring at exactly the same thing: whatever wasn't the other's eyes. Claire kept talking, he kept nodding. He shouldn't be bothered by the fact that she couldn't accept his life.

Finally, he threw his arm over her shoulders, and pulled her into him, pressing his lips against hers. She didn't need to accept it. She didn't need to get it. This would work for now.

* * *

**A/N:**I haven't written anything but angsty oneshots in a while; I decided to try my hand at writing a 'full' story again. And I always feel like putting more Bender/Basketcase out there. =)

This is going to be slow going though, guys- I'm working two jobs right now, and hopefully I'll be picking up another before Christmas, so these chapters are going to be short and probably not updated too often. Just a forewarning. But I'm pretty excited about this fic.

P.S. This chapter has Bender with Claire. But this will be a Bender/Basketcase fic, I promise.


	2. Chapter 2

'You know how to drive, right?'

Allison looked at her father, her eyebrows contracted in that, _um, seriously?_ expression that never seemed to get her anywhere, but she couldn't help pulling out anyway. She had the keys clutched in her hand, but they felt strange, and she wasn't completely at ease with holding them yet.

'Great,' Christopher Reynolds said, without waiting for her answer, grinning that cheesy grin, and giving her a quick pat on the shoulder, which felt much more awkward than the keys did. 'It's in the driveway.'

And then he was gone. He hadn't even thought about the fact that she didn't have a license.

She dropped down to her elbows on the counter, and released a little puff of air that sent her bangs flying up around her forehead. She looked at the keys in her hand. One key for the ignition, one for what was probably the back door. She slung her bag over her shoulder, and went out into the driveway.

The thing was off-white, huge, with rust around all the edges and the classic spare tire case up on the front. There were no curtains in the windows all around the van, which made it easy to see the now-dull green shag carpet lining the back when she looked inside. The apholstry on the bench seat up front was worn and had holes in places where she was sure some hippies had dropped their joints, but that could be easily fixed by throwing a blanket over the seat.

She slid into the driver's seat, and put her hands on the wheel.

She loved it.

* * *

The lobby smelled like any other movie theatre lobby. Popcorn and that weird, plastic, chemical kind of smell, one that wasn't unpleasant. Allison was sitting on a bench against the wall, kicking her feet out absently, waiting for Andy. Her Chucks made squeaky noises on the shiny, tiled floor every time they connected.

Finally, she spotted him coming through the door with some friends. She got up and waved, somewhat manically, jumping while she did so, to make sure he saw her.

And she knew he saw her. She watched his eyes land on her face and then dart away, awkwardly, watched his hand rub the back of his neck like he did when he was trying to act cool and knew he was blowing it. And she saw the way his friends looked at her, confused at the fact that she was waving in their direction, and also the way they mimicked her jump and wave to each other, laughing at how stupid she must have looked.

Andy didn't give any real indication that he'd noticed her trying to get ahold of him. He went to the counter, handed over some money, and then turned to talk to his friends. Whatever he said, they left a moment after, and she couldn't help noticing how he waited for them to leave before coming over to meet her.

'Hey,' he said, when he reached her, laying a hand on her elbow and leaning forward to kiss her.

She let him kiss her, but didn't respond. He handed her the ticket he'd bought for her, a grin that was a little too forced plastered across his face.

'Want some popcorn?' he asked, indicating the snack bar.

'Sure,' she replied, but while crossing her arms and scrunching her shoulders forward.

He went for the popcorn, ordered the biggest tub, and proceeded to pop it into his mouth while he walked back over.

'Let's go,' he said, around a mouthful of kernels.

'Andy,' she said, her arms still crossed, awkwardly, 'why were you ignoring me?'

'What?'

Did he have to have that look on his face? The innocently, no-idea-what-you-mean face?

'Your friends don't know we're together,' she muttered, looking at her shoes. 'You don't want them to know.'

Andy might have been a coward, but at least he was an honest coward.

'I just... they just... they don't really get it,' he said. 'They _wouldn't _really get it. I mean... I was just going to give it a little time.'

Allison barely registered Bender and Claire joining them with freshly purchased movie tickets.

'It's been almost a month, Andy,' she said, finally meet his eyes with a fierce glare.

'Look, you're just... not the type of girl I normally date,' replied Andy, in a slightly lower voice. It was clear he wasn't liking the attention that was being called to them, even if it really was only a now-suddenly awkward Bender and Claire who was really paying any. 'I mean, the way you were at the school that day, when you were wearing that shirt, and you looked all pretty and you weren't wearing old lady clothes-'

'Old _lady_ clothes?!'

Andy immediate realised his mistake, not that he could do anything about it. So he did what any good athlete, any winner, would do. He went on the offensive.

'Well, yeah!' he snapped back. 'I thought you were going to stop dressing like a weirdo! I liked that Allison!'

'Well that's not who I fucking am,' she responded, but in a muted, slightly choked voice, no doubt amply affected by the tears pooling in the bottom of her eyes.

She grabbed her bag, dropped her ticket, and headed for the door, not quite at a run, but fast enough for a few heads to turn in her direction as she left. She didn't stop until she got to her van, and at that point she was wiping the tears off her cheeks.

She yanked open the door, climbed in, and fumbled around in her bag for her keys. Once she found them, and started the van, she torn out of the parking lot like there was no tomorrow, not looking back even once.

* * *

She slept in her car that night. After getting home from the movie theatre, she'd gone into her room, grabbed every pillow and blanket she owned, and tossed them in the back of the van, along with some crackers, a couple of nectarines, and a bottle of wine she knew her parents wouldn't even miss. Then she drove to the mall, pulled around into the back parking lot, and climbed into the nest she'd made for herself.

She'd drawn, while she was back there. Lots of random sketches of random things. A little Scottish terrier. A scene of an empty valley with a lake. An empty ice skating rink. An obstentatiously bejeweled necklace, with some of the larger stones missing.

While she drew, she thought about Andy. She thought about the fight. How it hadn't even really been a fight. They'd barely said anything. But in retrospect, it hadn't just been his friends at the theatre, or his ignoring her, or his attitude about her clothes. This had been building for a while now, and she'd been in denial about it, ignoring all of it, because she was so excited to have Andy in the first place, so excited that maybe someone in her life actually did want her around, did _want _her, she didn't want to ruin it.

She should have known it was never going to actually work out. The kid would tape some poor dweeb's buttcheeks together to maintain his image. He certainly couldn't have her in his life tarnishing it. At least, not that in a way that anyone would know about it.

Finally, when night fell, and she'd finished the bottle of wine, she curled up in the blankets, and, feeling hollow and dizzy, she fell into a deep, exhausted sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

'What the fuck are you doing here?'

Allison shrugged, picking at a hole in the right knee of her black leggings, not really looking up from her sitting position on the steps. She didn't know why she'd decided to drive to the school that Saturday morning, and if she did, she probably wouldn't say anyway.

He looked at her, shrugged back, and extended his hand down to her. She grinned, took it, and enjoyed the little rush in her head as he pulled her to her feet. She enjoyed the slight, momentary dizziness afterwards, before they went into the school together.

It had been a week since the movie fiasco. Allison hadn't talked to Andy since then. She was lucky; they didn't share any classes. Surprisingly, she found herself being able to let go oddly easily. She hadn't expected it to be this simple. But she did suddenly find herself with almost absolutely nothing to do, once again. A familiar, yet sometimes frustrating feeling.

She still couldn't really believe Vernon actually gave Bender Saturday detention for practically the rest of the year, but he had. And threatened suspension if he didn't show up. She didn't have anything else to do. And they sure didn't miss her at home. And, despite Vernon's surprise at seeing her there, he didn't tell her to leave. He must not have known what to do when I kid who didn't actually get detention showed up for it anyway.

They were the only ones there. Which made it completely chill after Vernon left. Mostly they just balled up pieces of paper and threw them at each other. Bender had brought a joint with him, so they smoked it, and just hung out and talked. Allison had never really talked much, to anyone. Not actual conversations. Not for ages.

'Where would you go if you could go anywhere?' she asked, lying on the carpet on the upper level of the library and looking up at the white lights on the ceiling.

'I don't know,' replied Bender, who was leaning against the rail. 'Uh... Chicago.'

She snorted. He threw the pencil he'd been chewing on at her.

'I'd go so far away,' she said, rolling onto her stomach and looking at him, poking the carpet with the pencil once she'd retrieved it from the spot it had landed. 'I'd go to the Middle East, or South Africa or something.'

He nodded absently. 'That'd be cool, I guess.'

'It'd be amazing.'

'Ha, look at that loopy smile,' he said, laughing at her. 'You really fucking wanna get out of here, don't you?'

'Don't you?' she asked, incredulously. 'Or do you actually want to stay here, your whole life?'

He shrugged.

'I never really thought about it.'

'Once I graduate,' she said, rolled back onto her back and balancing the pencil on her nose, 'I'm going to go everywhere. In my van. I'm just gonna put all my shit in the back and just go. I'll drive around forever, and see everything.'

'And you'll, what...' he replied, raising an eyebrow, 'hook for gas money?'

'Yeah,' she said, smirking. 'I'll sell my body for booze and gas.'

'You really are a complete basketcase,' Bender scoffed, but with a smile on his face. 'Come on. Let's get out of this fucking library and wreak some havoc in the teacher's lounge.'

* * *

The end of detention found Bender and Allison with nothing to do on a Saturday afternoon, but also with a van, a full tank of gas, a half pack of cigarettes, and an itch to do something other than go home. Claire was going to some dinner with her family tonight, so Bender had nothing to do, and Allison didn't socialize, so that left her options for going out on a Saturday at about zero.

'Let's go by my house and grab a bottle of something,' Bender said as they walked to the van, striking a match against the side of th building and lighting his cigarette.

Allison nodded her agreement, bobbing alongside him in a gait that was a sort of cross between a trot and a skip. She fished around in her Mary Poppins bag for the keys to her car as she went. Surprisingly, they weren't hard to find in amongst all the rubbish in her purse.

When they got to the Bender house, there was already another car in the driveway. Bender made a low, uncomfortable noise, similar to a groan, but more quiet and unconscious. Allison noticed the sudden stiffness in his shoulders as they got out of the car, but he didn't say anything, so she just followed him into the house.

The object of Bender's unease became obvious as they walked inside, in the form of his father, sprawled on the couch, clutching a beer, watching something featuring lots of explosions.

'C'mon,' Bender mumbled, tugging Allison by her sleeve through the living room and down the hallway toward his room. Allison didn't say anything about the oddness of his interaction with his father (or rather the complete lack of it). She didn't want to make him uncomfortable.

She sat awkwardly on his bed while he grabbed the bottle out of his bedside table drawer. Absently, she traced a dent she found in the fall with her fingers. Then she followed him out of the room in equal silence.

It was as they passed through the living room again that the first interaction of the afternoon between Bender and his father took place.

'Where you going?'

'Just hanging out,' Bender muttered, his hand going out to rest on the doorknob.

His father looked over to them, and his eyes looked Allison up and down once before he scoffed in a manner similar to the way she had seen his son do countless times, and looked back at the TV. Allison's cheeks darkened to a crimson.

'Just use a fucking condom,' Bender Sr. grunted. 'That's not a mistake you wanna deal with.'

Bender jerked open the door, threw his arm around Allison's shoulders, pulled her through it, and slammed it so hard it seemed like the house would actually fall down for a second. Then he was practically bolting for the van, uncapping the bottle of whiskey and throwing some back as he went.

Allison followed, only a little more slowly. She had just decided she definitely didn't like Mr. John Bender Sr.

'He's a fucking asshole,' Bender snapped as soon as she got into the van. 'Fucking _asshole!_'

'Yeah,' she said, quietly, and then started the car. 'He kind of is.'

Bender looked at her, and for some reason, she got the impression that he was surprised, even though she was looking at the dash and not at him.

'I'm sorry,' he said, but his voice _did _sound surprised.

She smiled wryly at him, and then actually laughed a little.

'I never thought you'd say sorry about anything,' she said. 'Come on, let's get out of here.'

He for some reason, he laughed, too. As they pulled away from the house, they both kept laughing. Two crazy kids, laughing in a hippie van.

* * *

'What should we call her?'

'What?' asked Bender, raising his eyebrow at her. 'What should we call who?'

'The van,' Allison replied, tipping back the bottle of Jack and resting her head against the window in the back of the afore-mentioned vehicle.

Bender was across the space from her, leaning against the other side of the van, his legs stretched out over the shag carpet, looking at her with a sarcastic expression that was slightly marred by what might have been interpreted by some as a grin.

'You want to name a van.'

'She's going to be my life partner,' responded Allison, narrowing her eyes at him challengingly. 'She needs a name.'

He laughed.

'Freak,' he said, taking the bottle as she passed it to him.

She kicked him in the knee then, which was awkward, considering their legs were lying next to each other. He smirked and nudged her back before taking a little shot himself.

'Okay then,' he said, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. 'How about... Bertha?'

She made a face.

'... Nadine?' she suggested, tilting her head consideringly.

'It's a fucking van,' said Bender, rolling his eyes.

'_My_ fucking van,' she reminded him.

'What about... Frankie?'

Allison thought about it for a second. Frankie. Short for Francesca, but much better. appropriate. She liked it. She nodded her approval, running her finger up and down the upholstered side of the van.

'Frankie,' she said. She wondered where he'd gotten the name.

They were in the dirt lot next to an abandoned mill on the outskirts of town. No one ever really came out here. It was as far out of town you could get without _actually _leaving. They had just kind of ended up there. The bottle of Jack was almost gone, and the world seemed to be a warm and floaty place. The awkwardness of the near-confrontation with Bender's father had melted away hours ago. At least, it seemed like hours. Neither of them had checked the time in ages.

They had started by playing Never-Have-I-Ever and drinking whenever they had done whatever it was. Which was convenient, considering Bender seemed to have done a whole lot more than Allison, and he was also the one with the greater alcohol tolerance. Then they had just progressed to simply passing it back and forth, talking about random things. Such as naming her van. And what they would do as soon as high school was over.

There was one gulp left in the bottle.

Bender looked at it, shook it around a little, and then handed it to Allison.

'Bottoms up, Basketcase.'

She wrinkled her nose and smirked at him, before downing the rest of it. She recapped the bottle and tossed it over onto the pile of pillows against the back of the seat.

The two of them sat there and looked at each other. Allison started looking from one of his eyes to the other, and then noticed that he was doing the same. She felt calm and relaxed and completely content at that moment. She looked at his nose, his mouth, his cheekbones, the stubble on his jaw, and then back at his eyes.

After a moment more of the silence, she leaned her head back against the window, and let out a slow breath, closing her eyes. She didn't know if Bender was still looking at her, but she got the distinct impression that he was.

'You punched the wall, didn't you?'

She hadn't realised she was going to ask that question out loud. Apparently, neither did Bender, because he let out a distinctive, 'What the fuck?'

She opened her eyes.

'I do it too, you know,' she said. 'Usually it's not bad enough to put a bandage on.'

He looked at her, his eyes wide and his brows drawn together, as if angry and surprised at the same time.

'Your wall is a lot rougher than mine,' she went on to explain.

His face finally started to relax back to normal, and he brought his bandaged hand up to his leg, rubbing it softly with the other one.

'You hurt yourself,' he said. He had meant it as a question, but that's not how it came out.

She didn't say anything, but her mouth twisted in her own little oddball way, and he knew it was affirmation.

'We're some kind of fucked up,' he said throwing his arms behind his head and swinging one leg over the other.

'Yeah,' she agreed, pulling her own legs up to her chest and wrapping her arms around them. Then she shrugged.

'There's nothing wrong with us, though.'

And at this point, she looked up at him, and he was surprised to see her eyes were actually looking for confirmation.

He wasn't good at this cuddly, corny shit. Normally it was as far from his thing as anything could possibly be. But they'd actually had quite a lot of whiskey. He patted the carpet on his right, next to him, and she crawled over, and sat there. Not actually touching him, even if their clothes brushed. But close enough that they could feel each other's body heat, if they paid attention.

'There's fucking nothing wrong with us,' he agreed, nodding to make his point.

She reached over gently, and took his hand, careful not to undo his bandages.


	4. Chapter 4

'Ally!'

Allison saw Claire waving at her, and felt her mouth automatically twitching into a smile in returning the redhead's own, but she felt no rush of excitement as she wove her way between the desks to join her. She had a sneaky feeling she knew what this day's math class conversation would include. It had become a trend over the past week.

'Hi,' said Claire, grinning brightly as Allison sat down.

'Hi.'

'Did you end up getting the homework finished last night?' Claire asked, blowing off Allison's lack of enthusiasm in her response. 'I swear, I have no idea what we're actually doing in this class.'

'Yeah, I know,' Allison replied, dropping her bag next to her chair. She hadn't done the homework. She hadn't done much of anything the night before. She'd basically spend the entire night doodling on the wall next to her bed, reflecting on the fact that Bender and Claire were out together that night, wondering if they were having sex. Remembering what it was like to not be single for a second. She couldn't really decide if she liked it better being with someone, or not.

The teacher, Mr. Birchman, came in then, and Claire's voice dropped to hushed whisper.

'You know, Andy's been wondering if you're okay.'

There it was. The topic that had been in ever conversation held in math class since the big break-up.

'Fine,' said Allison, looking at Claire sideways like _really?_

'He's not a bad guy, you know,' Claire continued, an apologetic look on her face. 'He feels bad about that happened.'

'Yeah, I'm sure,' said Allison, but with only a touch of sarcasm in her voice. She pulled out one of her notebooks, and flipped open to an empty page, a gesture that signified that Andy Alley was closed for the period.

Claire was silent for a moment as well, watching Mr. Birchman and whatever he was doing on the blackboard, her own pencil poised over her notebook. She couldn't keep it up for long though.

'John said you guys hung out Saturday night.'

John? Oh, yes. Bender. Allison didn't think she'd ever get used to that.

'Yeah, we did. I went to detention.'

Claire's face was a mix of _blah, why? _and just plain confusion. Allison didn't feel the need to explain. Claire wouldn't understand anyway. There was no point.

'Sometimes I don't know about John,' Claire went on, now sounding like she was talking more to herself than Allison. Allison kind of wished she was. 'Sometimes he's so angry, you know? And I just don't know what to say to him, I don't know how to deal with it. I know he's got problems with his dad and stuff.'

'Yeah, he's a jerk,' grumbled Allison, grinding the point of her pencil sideways against the paper.

She felt Claire's eyes shift back to her.

'You've met his dad?'

Why did this sound like it was going to turn into drama?

'Once,' said Allison. 'Bender forgot something at his house. I have a car, so I gave him a ride back.'

Claire was silent. Allison realised that, of course, she wouldn't have met Bender's parents, his dad. Bender wouldn't ever bring his princess into that house. He hadn't even really wanted to bring her inside, she knew. He probably tried not to let Claire near that part of town at all, if he could help it.

'I just don't know how to talk to him, Ally.' Claire's voice was back to that talking-to-herself tone again, even though she addressed Allison by name. 'Like that bandage. He's been wearing it for a week. It must have been something bad, but he won't tell me.'

Allison didn't think it would make Claire feel any better to tell her why Bender was bandaging his hand, and even less to tell her that the reason it had been there for a week was because Bender had repeated the wall punching incident since the bandage had first showed up. Claire would probably be upset that Allison knew, anyway.

'I wish I could talk-'

'Ladies?'

Claire shut up as Mr. Birchman addressed them, raising an eyebrow.

'Something you'd like to add?' he asked.

'No, Mr. Birchman,' said Claire, blushing.

Allison shook her head fervently.

'Good,' he said, dropping the eyebrow. 'So now, if you'd be kind enough to at least not distract the rest of the class...'

And although she felt a bit for Claire, Allison was glad for an escape from the onslaught of feeling-sharing.

* * *

Bender waited for Claire outside the school, smoking his obligatory afternoon cigarette. He'd removed the bandages last night, after hanging out with her; she'd been asking about them again, and he didn't want to deal with that. Besides, his gloves covered everything that needed to be covered, and his hand was almost healed now. The swelling was almost completely gone.

He saw Vernon come out the front doors of the school, and took a long drag. He released the smoke as he saw the man making a beeline straight for him. Slowly, he stepped back off the sidewalk and in between the parked cars and onto the street itself.

'Bender!' snapped Vernon, pointing his finger at him as he approached. 'You know you can't smoke those here. This is a tobacco free campus. Being eighteen doesn't give you the right to smoke on school grounds.'

'I'm not on school grounds, sir,' replied Bender, taking another drag from the cigarette.

'Don't play games with me, Bender,' growled Vernon, the permanent dent between his eyebrows becoming more pronounced.

'I'm just saying, sir,' said Bender with a shrug, 'I'm not on school grounds. I'm in the street. The school doesn't own the street, does it, sir?'

Vernon was rapidly becoming a deep shade of red.

'I'm watching you, Bender,' he settled on, finally. And with that, he yanked the cig out of Bender's mouth, threw it in the gutter, and turned to storm back into the school. Bender snorted, and flipped him off as he went.

It was at that point, of course, that he was joined by Claire, who must have been watching the whole thing from a slight distance.

'Hello, princess,' said Bender, smirking and pulling her into him for a kiss.

'What did Vernon want?' she asked, looking questioningly at his feet, too, still standing in the street.

'Just being an ass,' he sad, rolling his eyes. 'What else is new?'

They walked towards the football fields in silence for a while, his arm casually around her shoulders, hers around her books, pressed to her chest. The picture of a typical high school couple. He might have laughed if he'd seen the image from a distance.

'So,' Claire finally said, as they approached the fields, 'Ally said she met your dad.'

Bender stopped in his tracks. Claire extracted herself from under his arm and turned to look at him face to face.

'I wouldn't call that a meeting,' he grumbled, fumbling around in his pocket for his book of matches, more for something to do than because he actually wanted to smoke.

'But she actually did,' said Claire.

'She was there when he opened his fat mouth,' said Bender. 'I don't think that counts.'

Claire looked at him, biting her lip as if she was deciding whether or not she should say something. Then...

'Well, I think it's kind of weird that I haven't met them yet.'

Bender yanked out his cigarettes, finally, glaring at her as he pulled one out and lit it.

'I mean, come on, John,' she said, perhaps sensing that she should stop, but ignoring the instinct. 'You met my mom and dad.'

'Yeah, because you wanted to piss them off!' he snapped, shoving the cigarette package and matches back into his coat pocket. 'I'm your fucking little taste of rebellion, Claire!'

'Is that what you think?!'

'Well, tell me I'm fucking wrong, then,' Bender replied, managing to pull his voice down from a shout for a moment.

Claire glared at him, her arms still around her books, pressed to her chest, her knuckles turning white from gripping so hard.

'You don't let me into your life at all, John,' she said, managing to restrain her voice as well. 'I'm your fucking girlfriend. You should at least talk to me. At least tell me what happened to your hand.'

'I don't owe you anything, sweetheart!' Bender said, his voice raising again. 'Sure, I'll be the little streak of bad in your perfect life, you don't try to butt your way into mine. You couldn't handle it anyway.'

'At least give me the chance to try!' Claire slammed her books down on the bleachers, her eyes fiery now. 'You don't even give me the chance to try!'

'_Why the fuck should I?_'

'Because your my fucking _boyfriend_, that's why!'

'Well, maybe I shouldn't be your fucking _boyfriend_ anymore!' shouted Bender, dropping his cig and stamping it under his boot.

Claire's face went slack as if someone had just wacked her over the head with a baseball bat. Slowly, she gathered up her books again, adjusted her bag on her shoulder, and turned toward the school. Without looking back, she walked back in the direction they'd come, no doubt to go to the school phone and call her parents to come pick her up.

As Bender watched her go, he couldn't decide if he wanted to be relieved, or if he wanted to ball-up his still recovering fist and try to knock over the bleachers with it.


	5. Chapter 5

He didn't punch the bleachers. He didn't punch anything. He left the fields, eventually, and started walking. He didn't know where he was walking, he just knew he needed to move. And he kept moving, kept walking, taking random turns when he came to the end of sidewalks, flipping coins to decide when he felt like it. It was after dark by the time he realised he was starving. He didn't know how long it had been. His feet hurt.

He looked around, trying to figure out where he was. It wasn't a large town. By his reckoning, he figured he was just a few blocks from the McDonald's. Taking a moment to make sure off the direction, he set off, hands shoved into his pockets, clenching and unclenching around the objects inside.

He'd stolen a bit of money from his dad's wallet while he was passed out the night before. Not much, just enough to buy some food and the cigarettes. He ordered some kind of burger combo; he wasn't sure of the name, but it looked like the biggest one, and he had enough money. Once he was up, he downed it in a hurry, and headed for the door. He supposed he should probably start walking home at some point. He was really just delaying the inevitable at this point.

He'd made up his mind to just head for home when the sight of a familiar hippie van pulling up outside the McDonald's door stopped him.

'What're you doing here?' he grumbled, as Allison hopped out of the front seat and her eyes met his.

'I'm stalking you,' she said, matter-of-factly, grinning.

Bender raised his eyebrows at her, and her face didn't change.

'Are you?'

'You'll never know.'

He probably wouldn't ever know. It wouldn't actually surprise him, he realised.

'Do you need a ride home?' she asked, twirling the keys around her finger. 'I promise not to kidnap you.'

Her face said otherwise.

'What the hell,' said Bender, heading for the van. 'Why not? Uh... were you getting food?'

'Nope.'

She probably was actually stalking him.

* * *

They drove mostly in silence. Allison had the radio turned on, and they fought a little about the music. But other than that, nothing was said. Allison suspected something was wrong. She didn't know if it was something to do with what Claire was saying that morning in math, but Bender seemed moody, to say the least, and she didn't want to push him.

They finally pulled up to the Bender residence. She put the van into park.

'Well,' she said. 'I guess I'll see you.'

'Yeah,' he said, not really looking at her. 'Thanks.'

Then he shoved open the door and tumbled out of the car. He wasn't his usual snappish Bender self, and for some reason, that bothered Allison. She waited until he shut his front door behind him, and then started to drive away.

But about thirty feet later, on impulse, she pulled a u-turn and sidled back up to Bender's house, this time on the other side of the street. She drove a little past it, found an inconspicuous parking spot, then hopped out and sneakily started to ninja her way back to Bender's house.

* * *

Bender didn't see his dad when he walked through the living room. But he was quick to get to his room, because he heard him. He heard things being thrown and smashed in the other room, and that was never a good thing.

He got into his room, shut the door as quietly as possible, and shrugged out of his coat. He dropped it at the foot of his bed with what was probably every other piece of clothing he owned before throwing himself on the bed. He grabbed his knife from the bedside table (a new one, his old switch blade seemed to have disappeared) and idly started flipping it up and shut. It was a comforting feeling. He started to relax and fall into his zone.

That was, until he heard an odd little tapping noise coming from his window.

He jumped out of bed, still holding his knife, and looked over to see Allison's pale face glowing outside, that stupid, goofy grin plastered all over her face. He slammed the knife down on his bedside table, and went over to the window.

'What the hell do you think you're doing?' he growled, as he shoved it up as far as it would go.

'I'm bored,' she said, 'and I thought you might want company. Pop this damn screen out.'

Bender rolled his eyes, and popped the screen out, allowing her to swing her legs over and climb clumsily inside. Once she was inside, he put the screen back in and shut the window.

'You're one weird fucking kid,' he said, reaching for his knife again. 'If you're gonna be in here, you've gotta be quiet-'

It was at that point, ironically, that the voice of Bender's father resonated through the house loudly. And it wasn't anything less than terrifying.

'_JOHN!_'

'Shit,' muttered Bender, grabbing Allison by the arm and pulling her over to the closet. 'Shit, shit, shit.'

She didn't say anything, just let herself be dragged by him, and shoved gently into his closet.

'Allison,' he said, grabbing the back of her neck gently and forcing her to look at him, 'don't make a fucking sound. Just shut up and be totally quiet.'

Then he shut the door.

* * *

Allison didn't know how long the next part of this odd night lasted. She couldn't guess even begin to guess. She only knew that she couldn't remember being more scared in her entire life. At some point, the remembered a thought skittering through her head, something along the lines of _if this is what it's like to get attention from your parents... _

She had heard her parents yell before. Sometimes at her, though rarely. Sometimes at each other. But never like this. This was some kind of desperate, uncontrolled rage. As far as she could tell, Bender had stolen money from his dad's wallet. She heard him yelling about that. She could hear the noise of a fist connecting with flesh. Then something more solid, but much scarier sounding. Again. And again.

What she couldn't hear, and she didn't understand why she couldn't, was the sound of Bender fighting back. Sure, he yelled back, especially at first. But as far as she could tell, when the physical fighting started, it wasn't the sound of an evenly matched scuffle. It was one-sided.

And finally, she heard the door slam. She never thought she'd be so relieved to hear the door slam.

She was curled up at the bottom of the closet, her legs pulled into her chest, her arms wrapped around them so tightly they hurt. She was in this position when Bender finally opened the closet door.

'You can come out now,' he sneered, turning around and going back to his bed, dropping down onto it, but still glaring at her.

'This is why you shouldn't fucking just break into people's rooms like that,' he growled. She had the feeling he'd be shouting, but his voice was hushed, no doubt because he didn't want his father to hear him. 'Just get the fuck out of here.'

This, she recognised This pushing people away. This wasn't new to her. This was Bender. And sometimes, this was her. Don't get close to people. The golden rule. Treat people as you've been treated.

She looked at him. His lip was bleeding. But that was the only thing on his face. She had noticed how carefully he'd walked back over to his bed, though. His face was hardened with anger, but also with embarrassment. Shame.

Without saying a word, she went over to his bed, and sat next to him, but facing toward him, one leg tucked under her, and started digging through her bag. She found a package of tissues, and ripped it open, pulling the top one out. Then she reached for his face.

He grabbed her wrist, looking at her, his eyes darker than usual.

'I said get the fuck out of here.'

'No.'

His fingers tightened on her wrist. She was suddenly very aware of her blood pounding underneath them.

Finally, he let go. She scooted closer to him, and gently guided his face toward her. Then she began to dab his lip. She grabbed a couple more tissues, and some water from her bag, wet them, and repeated the procedure.

It wasn't great, but it would have to do.

'Where else?'

He didn't' say anything.

'You're being a jackass,' she said. It was her turn to growl. 'Show me where else.'

He rolled his eyes. The gesture seemed too juvenile for the situation. Then he stood up, and she noticed his wince, no matter how hard he tried to hide it. She reached over from where she was sitting, and pulled up his shirt. She ran her fingers over his ribs until she felt him tense suddenly.

'I don't really know what I'm doing,' she said, scooting towards the end of the bed to get to his ribs better. She noticed the bandages that had been wrapped around his hand earlier in the week, sitting on the bedside table. She tied them together to make one long strip and started to gently wrap it around his ribs. 'You should probably go to the hospital.'

'They just do the same thing,' he mumbled.

She didn't like to think of how he knew that.

She made the knot to end the wrap, and flinched herself when she felt him doing the same, his eyes closed in a brief flash of pain.

'Thanks,' he grumbled. He dropped onto his bed again, more gingerly this time. He still hissed a little as he sat. 'So you going home or what?'

She was quiet. He raised his eyebrows at her as is demanding an answer.

'I don't want to,' she said, finally.

'You are such a weird fucking kid,' he replied. 'At least scoot over a little bit so I can lie down.'

She obliged, and he carefully swung his legs up past her, stretching out the length of his bed. After a moment, she lay down next to him, on the outside of the bed. She curled up against his side, her eyes never leaving his face.

He met her gaze, surprised, but didn't say anything. He scooted over a little bit until he was pressed against the wall, so she'd have more room on the bed.

They stayed there, not speaking, just being comforted by the other's presence. Eventually, Bender shifted so that he could pull a blanket over them, and as he did so, he also put his arm around her, and pulled her into him. She moved so her back was to him, so they fit together.

After was seemed like eons (and probably was, since time really seemed to have no bearing over this night whatsoever), she finally heard the most calming sound she'd ever remembered hearing: the sound of Bender's slow, even breathing as he fell asleep.


	6. Chapter 6

There's a specific feeling you have, somewhere in your stomach, when you wake up in an unfamiliar place. Allison had only experienced it once before, when her family moved houses, during her first year of high school. She remembered blearily opening her eyes to a different pattern of soft sunlight on the walls, smelling a different room, the wall being on a different side of her bed.

This time was just like that, except for one thing: Bender's arm was still thrown around her waist, the upper part curling up so it was resting just under her breasts, pulling her to him. He was still holding on, like she was a teddy bear. She didn't know if he'd relaxed that grip all night. But he was still asleep- she could hear him snoring softly.

She watched that unfamiliar pattern of speckled light on the grey wall across from her bed. It must have been slightly breezy outside, because it kept shifting. For some reason, it made her nostalgic.

She finally pulled her eyes away to look at the clock on Bender's bedside table. It read 5:46 a.m.

She gently extricated herself from Bender's arm, and immediately missed the warmth of it, and his bed, as she put her feet on the chilly floor and stood up. It was cold in the room, more so than she would have guessed. She found her shoes, pulled them on awkwardly (she never really was much good at putting on shoes standing up), and grabbed her bag.

She pulled the window open, popped out the screen again, and had her hand on the sill, ready to hoist herself out, before she took one last look at Bender. He had moved so that the arm that was around her was stuffed under his pillow now. He'd rolled more onto his stomach, and his legs were sprawled out behind him.

Slowly, she reached into her bag, rummaged around, and finally pulled out a switchblade knife she'd had stowed in there for almost two months. As quietly as she could, she put it down on the bedside table, before finally clambering out the window, and, although she couldn't put the screen back in, pulling the glass shut behind her.

* * *

Bender woke with a roaring pain in his side, and a soreness in his jaw. He lay there with his eyes squeezed shut, refusing to completely wake up, letting the memories from last night wash back over him, trying to sort them.

Allison.

Allison had been there. Fuck.

And she had stayed. But she was gone now. Right?

He opened his eyes finally, confirming it. She was gone. But she had stayed there, at least until he passed out. And he had groggy memories, half-formed and heavy with sleep, of her being there in the night, of someone else in his bed, of that warmth.

She must have woken up before him and left. He hadn't really expected her to stay until he woke up, if she'd been the first one awake. But her not being there did make last night feel unreal.

He was jolted back into the reality of it as he rolled onto his back and felt that screaming pain in his side again. As carefully as he could, clenching his teeth, he got up, went to the door, checked the hallway, and then snuck into the bathroom.

There were bruises all over his ribcage, peeking out from under the bandage. They seemed to be culminated, logically, around the center of the pain, which is where his rib must have been broken. Maybe two of them, he discovered from his hesistant probing. Fuck. He hated having broken ribs. It hadn't happened that many times before- last night had been pretty bad- but it had happened enough for him to realise that going to school like this was going to be hell.

At least his face was all right. Just the split lip, and not even that bad. He brushed his fingers over it, an shivered, surprised by an extremely tactile memory that snuck up on him, a memory of Allison's fingers in the same place, gently touching a tissue to his face, her other hand holding his jaw softly to keep him from turning away.

He blinked at his reflection a couple of times, and then, shaking the memories of last night from his head, he started to untie the bandage. He needed to shower, get his shit together, and start walking. The school was a long way, and he'd slept in.

* * *

**A/N**: Sorry this is so short guys! Finally got a second to update. I'm doing the three job thing (one of the jobs is a caregiving job that requires two separate agencies, so honestly it's pretty much four jobs), and going to school in the fall (yay!). Which is all really exciting, but the paper work is KILLING me. Not much time for myself anymore. )

So, there will be more soon, for now, have this tiny tidbit. =)


	7. Chapter 7

Lunch period found John Bender behind the bleachers, as usual, leaning against a fence, smoking a joint. He'd blown through most of his weed that day, but it was helping the pain, and making school at least tolerable. It had been a bizarre day. First waking up remembering Allison sleeping in his bed, then finding his stolen knife on his bed side table... and he hadn't seen her anywhere at school, yet. Usually he at least saw her in the halls between classes.

He flipped his knife open and shut absently. It was good to at least have that back.

He wished he could say the same thing about a certain redheaded catastrophe he just then caught sight hurrying across the football field.

Claire had been dogging him all day. She wanted to talk. She wanted to go over everything they had said the afternoon before. She wanted to fix things. He had mostly evaded her; there really hadn't been time to talk in between classes. But what Claire didn't realise, what Bender himself hadn't realised until their fight, was that he was already over them being together.

There had been an amazing, unexpected moment, before he'd run into her that morning, when he thought they were well and truly broken up and she would be too upset to talk to him, where he savoured the idea that he wouldn't have to face unending questions about his knuckles, his ribs, his split lip, and gossip about people he didn't know or care about. No stupid small talk to cover up the lame answers he would have given her about his injuries that would have still left a huge elephant in the room. No sideways glaces that she thought she was concealing so well.

Why he thought she wouldn't realise he'd hidden out by the football field, he had no idea. Sadly enough, his first impulse was to hide. Scowling at himself, he angrily put out the joint, and stepped out from the bleachers. He had to face her again sometime. Better to get it over with now.

'John!' she called, waving and closing the last bit of distance between them. 'Finally, I might actually have a chance to talk to you.'

'What's up Claire?' he asked, shoving his hands offhandedly into his pockets, and then trying not to flinch as pain shot through his ribs.

'I want to talk about yesterday,' she said. She already looked like she was going to cry. 'I want to talk about us. You know that, I've been trying to talk to you all day.'

'Yeah, noticed that,' mumbled Bender, setting his jaw. 'Look princess. I meant everything I said yesterday. And yeah, I was kind of an asshole about it. I guess I should've chilled out more. But I still meant it.'

'What do you mean?' asked Claire, her eyes starting to shine.

_Oh fuck_, thought Bender, internally rolling his eyes, but also feeling that specific brand of dread reserved for the moment you realise you're about to make someone cry.

'We have nothing in common, Claire,' he went on. 'All you ever talk about is other kids at school who I've never even met and don't give a shit about, or how you couldn't get your hair to look good this morning, or where you want to spend your parents money for spring break.'

'Are you actually telling me we're breaking up?' she asked quietly, her eyes fairly gleaming now.

'You were going out with me just to piss of your folks,' he said, trying to remain cool and removed. 'You just wanted their attention. I was there for dinner with your parents, Claire. You just watched them the whole time to see their reaction to this fucking burnout you brought home.'

'That's not true!'

Claire was a terrible liar. Even to herself.

'It was nice for a second, sweetheart,' grumbled Bender, turning to walk away. Yeah, maybe he was a coward, but just because he wanted to be done with Claire, didn't mean he wanted to watch her cry.

He got to hear it, though; he'd expected to hear some angry retort or shrill insult flung after him as he strode back towards the school, but instead, the only sound within earshot was the muffled, breathy, unmistakable sound of a high school girl trying to stop herself from bursting into tears.

* * *

Allison was sitting in Frankie's driver's seat, munching on a Subway sandwich and tapping her foot against the floor when Bender scared the crap out of her by violently kicking the wheel outside her door and throwing himself against the side of the van. After setting the sandwich in the other seat, she pushed open the door and stuck her head out.

'Don't kick my van,' she growled, and then caught sight of his face, which was contorted with agony.

She hopped out and leaned back against the van next to him.

'I guess running into a van with broken ribs isn't really a good idea,' she said quietly, and then pushed off again so she could stand in front of him. She reached out a hand to touch his shoulder.

'Fuck off,' he growled, grabbing her hand and throwing it away from him. He turned so that he was sideways against the van, curled away from her, his face hidden.

She crossed her arms and glared at him.

After a moment, he got the pain under control, took a very slow breath, and faced her way again. She thought she saw something else flicker across his face before he resumed his usually no-fucks-given expression. Something sad. But it was gone too fast for her to know if it was real at all.

'Sorry,' he grunted. 'I'm being an asshole today. What're you doing? I saw your van...'

'I was having lunch.'

They were interrupted by the sound of the end-of-lunch bell ringing across the parking lot.

'Well, I guess that's over,' she said, reaching back into her van for her bag. Bender took her arm to stop her, and run his other hand gingerly through his hair.

'Do you wanna do something else?' he asked. 'Let's get out of here. Half a day of school is way to fucking much today.'

She thought about it briefly. She didn't skip class much. She didn't really have a reason too. The school would probably call her parents. Her parents probably wouldn't care.

'Yeah,' she said, grabbing the door handle in preparation of swinging herself up into the driver's seat. 'Let's go.'


	8. Chapter 8

They drove back to the abandoned mill. But before that, Bender met a buddy of his who sold him more weed, and bought them a bottle.

_We're all set for our little adventure_, Allison thought to herself, whatever that was supposed to mean.

And there they were again. She felt the déjà vu setting in as the sun started to set, the two of them in the back of the van, shooting the shit, taking half shots of whiskey out of the bottle, leaning against opposite sides of the van. She was starting to feel that same contentment, that same relaxation, and she thought he was starting to feel it too. And she figured that was a bigger deal for him than her, today.

'Okay,' he said, that elusive grin coming onto his face. 'Say you had to only have one boob for the rest of your life, which one would you keep?'

'Really?' she laughed, looking down at them. 'Uh... my left one.'

He laughed too, throwing back some booze, already drunk. She rested her head against the back of the bench seat, and watched him come back up, his eyes glinting. He handed her the bottle, and then waited expectantly, watching her.

'Um...' she said, slowly, when she realised it was her turn. 'Would you rather never have sex again, or have to have sex with all old women forever?'

Bender gave her a look that clearly said _Are you fucking stupid?_

'Obviously I'd fuck old women,' he said. 'Besides, they teach you all the best tricks.'

He winked, and Allison snorted. She took a swig, and passed the bottle back.

'Would you have sex with a sixty-year-old?' he asked, watching her for the answer as he tipped the bottle back.

Allison scrunched up her face.

'I couldn't have sex with an old man,' she said, shaking her head.

'Say he's loaded,' added Bender, grinning again. 'And you only have to fuck him once, and then he'd give you all his money to travel.'

Allison started chewing on her lip, thinking about it.

'Maybe,' she said, finally. 'If he was famous, too.'

They both laughed, and he held out the bottle. She reached for it, and her fingers grabbed his around the neck as she took it. They stayed there for a moment, both looking at the bottle.

'Bender,' Allison started, quietly. 'Does your mom live with you?'

He slid his fingers away, and leaned back again, crossing his arms, his expression becoming surly.

'Who fucking cares?' he mumbled, glaring at her.

'I just remembered...'

She took a moment to watch him, to gauge his reactions, and collect her words. Her head was spinning a little.

'I thought you mentioned her when you were talking about your family,' she said, finally. 'That one detention. Ages ago.'

He was tense. She could see it. She should have probably just kept her mouth shut. Dammit.

'She took off,' he said, finally, reaching a hand out for the bottle. He didn't sound overly angry or upset. Just a little drunk. And very guarded. Allison thought she might have preferred angry as she handed him the bottle.

'Sorry I asked,' she said, meaning it. 'I don't know why I did. It was stupid.'

'Whatever.'

_Fucked this up now_, thought Allison, pulling her legs up into her chest and wrapping her arms around them. She put her cheek against the back of the bench seat again, feeling the pattern of the blanket press into her skin. Everything was shifting, slightly, it felt like.

'Hey.'

She opened her eyes at Bender's voice. She hadn't even realised she'd closed them.

'It's okay,' he said, but almost too quietly for her to hear. 'It's not a problem. Don't worry about it. Hey!'

Her eyes snapped open again. The 'hey!' was louder.

'Don't fucking fall asleep on me!' he growled, but she was pleased to see his grin back on his face. She felt her lips curling upward in response.

'I'm not,' she said, smiling.

He looked at her suspiciously, and then grabbed a water bottle she'd stowed behind the seat, and squirted her in the face with it.

'Hey!'

It wasn't that much water, but it was enough to snap her out of it, and she rolled up onto her knees as he laughed at her. She flicked the water out of her eyes, and started laughing as well. She wiped the rest of the water off, salvaging what little was left, and flicked the few droplets back at him. He just smirked, as none of them met their mark.

'Whose fucking turn is it, anyway?'

* * *

'It's getting late. Maybe we should go.'

It was much later now. The whiskey was gone. They were sitting next to each other, a blanket wrapped around their legs, leaning back against the pillows Allison had piled up behind the seat.

'You're drunk,' said Allison, a dopey grin on her face as she looked up at him. 'Do you _want _to go home?'

'Do you?' snapped Bender, looking down at her.

'It doesn't even matter,' she said, watching her toes as she poked them out of the blanket. 'We're not going _anywhere_.'

'What?'

'We can't leave,' she said, looking at him pointedly, which made her head tilt much farther sideways than normal. 'You're _drunk._'

'I think you're drunk,' he said, laughing, tipping her head back upright.

'I can't drive,' she agreed, and then started giggling. 'Let's just stay here.'

He nodded absently.

'Hey, uh,' he said, slowly. 'Thanks, Allison. For tonight. I needed it.'

She smiled up at him, eyes shining happily in the moonlight.

'You're welcome.'

Bender wasn't sure if he moved first, or if she did. But the next thing he knew was that their lips were pressed against each others, and his hand was sliding into her hair. Hers, in turn, was slipping up to rest against his collarbone.

Then they were moving together, falling slowly down to the floor of the van. And he didn't even care about the pain that was shooting through his side.


	9. Chapter 9

Maybe you've never woken up in a van totally hungover at nine on a school morning, in which case you should know: it is not comfortable.

It's even worse when you have two broken ribs and assorted bumps and bruises.

Bender thought he would puke right then and there when he opened his eyes. For one manic moment, he thought Allison was spinning doughnuts with the van. He he rolled over, hissing through his teeth, and his nose almost collided with her back. She shifted, and the accompanying groan echoed his.

Gingerly, Bender sat up, and scooted back against the seat. This whole waking-up-with-the-basketcase-hazy-memory-aching-body thing had to stop.

And speaking of hazy memories...

He looked down at Allison, who was slowly shifting in that way that someone who's slowly pulling herself back into consciousness does. She was wearing that baggy black sweater of hers, and had a blanket haphazardly wrapped around her, a blanket that Bender realised she must have bunched up around herself sometime during the night. She must have still been pretty chilly, because she was scrunched up into a ball, only her legs from the knees down sticking out of the blanket, and they were curled up as well, almost tucked underneath her.

It really wasn't a wonder she was cold; most of her clothes were scattered around the back of the van. He realised the sweater was probably the only thing she had on.

He himself was shirtless. He must have pulled on his pants at some point, because they were on, although the fly was down and the button undone. He realised how cold he was, something he hadn't noticed before due to the extreme spinning in his head and the pains shooting through his body. As he started pulling on his clothes, shivering, Allison finally rolled over and her eyes slid up to his face.

'I am never drinking again,' she mumbled.

'Everyone says that,' Bender scoffed, shivering as he pulled his jacket on. The longer he was awake, the more memories from last night were coming back to him. Her body pressed under his, that warmth, her hands running up his back, the feel of her lips, her teeth... she'd bitten him. He had his clothes on now, but he was sure there'd be bite marks if he looked for them.

'I fucking mean it,' she grumbled, but half-heartedly collecting her clothes and pulling them to her.

Was she having those flashbacks too?

'Do you have a watch or something in that bag?' he asked, finally yanking his boots on.

She shook her head.

He climbed into the front seat, feeling awkward just sitting there while she dressed. Then he hopped out of the van, and lit up a cigarette. When she was fully dressed, she climbed into the front seat at well, and turned on the van. He put out his cig and got back in with her. As she turned the heat on, he noticed the time, and dropped his head back against the seat.

'Well, there's probably no point in going back to school,' he grunted.

She didn't say anything, and put the car into drive, pulling away from the mill.

They drove in hungover silence for a few minutes. It seemed like longer than that, but Bender kept looking at the clock for something to do. As they approached the actually city limit of Shermer, Allison finally spoke.

'I'm going to school,' she said. 'I'll just wait and go to class after lunch. I have a test.'

'Okay,' he said. 'Just drop me off wherever. There's a diner up here.'

'Okay.'

Was she not going to try to get him to talk about last night?

Apparently not, because all she said when she dropped him off was 'thanks for hanging out', and 'see you later'. Bender internally shrugged, went into the diner, sat in a table in the corner, and lit up another cigarette. He had enough change for a cup of coffee, which is what he ordered from the middle-aged waitress with huge tits named Doris.

As he drank it, he thought about the strangeness of the night before. He definitely hadn't expected it to happen. And considering it had happened, he definitely _had _expected her to grill him with the usual spiel about what it meant for them, what was going to happen now, and at least ask him to call her or something.

She hadn't. But that was totally okay with him.

And last night had actually been okay. In fact, it had really been much better than okay.

He leaned back in the booth seat, the plastic covering squeaking, and for the first time in his life, he considered Allison.


	10. Chapter 10

Allison almost immediately regretted the decision to go back to school when she entered the building as lunch ended. Every student in the school, in the halls, all of them talking, shouting, laughing, slamming lockers... how had she not noticed how loud it was before?

What else was she going to do, though, go home? Have to sit through the awkward attempt her parents would probably try to make to actually talk to her about the school's call about her missed classes and the fact that she'd been gone all night. If she had been gone for too long, or other people mentioned things, or the school called, they usually tried to actually be parents. Not that it ever transcended a few sentences about making sure she was thinking about her future and making good decisions.

She could never stand it. School was better. And she did have a test, in one of her classes. It wasn't important, really, more of a quiz. But it was a reasonable explanation. She wasn't really sure what direction hanging out with Bender would take, if she decided she wasn't going back to school, either, and she didn't really want to test it.

What was going to happen now, anyway?

Would Bender get weird? He hadn't seemed weird. Of course, they had both been hungover. They hadn't talked. She was glad. She really didn't want to talk. It would have been awkward. And it would have ruined the moment. If there had been a moment. Was it a moment? It didn't matter. It really didn't.

Actually, only one thing did matter. It was the only concrete feeling she had about the night: guilt.

What would it be like talking to Claire after this?

She realised suddenly that she was already in her classroom, at her desk, and dropped in to it abesently. She pulled a pencil from her bag and started rolling it back and forth across the surface of the desk.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a flash of red and purple enter the room, and the pencil stopped rolling; it felt like a large block of ice had just dropped into her stomach. This was the first class after lunch. Algebra. The class she shared with Claire.

How did she not think to skip this class? She was literally just thinking about Claire as she walked to the classroom. She must have been more scattered brained than she thought. Well, it was really too late now. Claire had walked around her desk to her seat, and was sitting down and rifling though her bag for her homework.

Allison didn't say anything. She started pulled out a piece of paper and started doodling on the corner. Claire hadn't said anything yet, either, which was odd for her. After about five minutes, Allison couldn't take it anymore. She had started to panic a little. What if Claire knew?

'How was the homework?' she asked, somewhat abruptly, by way of an icebreaker.

Claire looked up at her. She looked tired. Her eyes looked a little glazed. Not stoned, glazed, just... tired.

'It was pretty boring,' she responded.

'Good thing I didn't do it then,' said Allison, hoping her usual smirk was in place on her face.

'I guess,' said Claire, nodding absently. 'How do you even pass classes, anyway?'

'No idea,' Allison replied, and an odd, nervous giggly squeaked out of her. Claire was used to odd noises emanating from her odd friend at this point, though; she didn't even notice.

'You and John,' Claire muttered. 'I don't even understand...'

Allison's heart actually stopped.

'What?'

'You guys still manage to stay in school,' Claire said, looking up at her. 'It's insane.'

'Oh, yeah.' Massive flood of relief.

Which receded as soon as she say little tears welling up in Claire's eyes.

'Claire?'

The redhead pressed her lips together, and looked over at Allison.

'Bender and I broke up yesterday,' she said, finally.

Allison didn't know whether to be relieved or sad or happy, or confused. They broke up yesterday? She was with Bender all yesterday. All yesterday after lunch, anyway. So they must have broken up before lunch. Maybe during lunch. Which would mean... Bender wasn't still with Claire last night. Sure, there was a window of like a few hours, but... technically...

So did that mean she was Bender's rebound? Did she even care? She didn't really like Bender. Did she really like Bender? She liked being around Bender. But she'd never thought of him as a boyfriend or anything, really, so, if she was a rebound, and they still got to be friends...

She was scaring herself, she realised. When was she this analytical about anything? She forced herself to focus on Claire. She definitely didn't know what to say. It turned out she didn't really have to say anything. Claire had just kept talking. It seemed like she'd had a lot to say for a while.

'... and I mean, yeah, I guess I was using him to piss off my parents,' she was saying, 'but it was kind of his idea in the first place! He was the one who said he'd be so great in that capacity or whatever. But I mean, it wasn't just that. I liked him.'

She paused to stem the flow of tears as Mr. Birchman entered, and hopped up to get some tissues to blow her nose while she still had a chance.

'You're his friend, Ally,' she whispered, when she sat back down. 'How has he been acting? Does he care?'

Allison never considered herself to be a person very in touch with her emotions. But hearing Claire tell her that she was Bender's friend in a voice that was so soaked in pleading and defeat almost broke her heart.

Maybe it was the hangover.

'I think he cares,' she said. 'He cares a lot.'

Claire kept her eyes on Allison's face for a moment, and then took a shakey breath, nodding slightly. Without another word, she went back to her math work. Allison couldn't logically explain why, but she felt like her answer had made the other girl feel better.

And that was really all she could ask for right now. And with that realisation, she found herself relaxing, and finally able to think about the night before without worrying about what it was or how it affected her friends. Now she could look back and enjoy it.


	11. Chapter 11

Saturday morning found Allison Reynolds and John Bender back in detention. It had been two days since the sex. That was how Allison was referring to it in her head, anyway.

They hadn't talked since then; she was a junior and he was a senior, and they didn't share any classes, so it was perfect possible for them to go through the rest of the school week without talking to each other. She told herself that she wasn't avoiding him. She wasn't, really. She just wasn't making an effort to find him. And he wasn't making an effort to find her. And they just hadn't been bumping into each other.

But there was no reason not to go to detention. None, really. She had nothing else to do, again. No reason not to go.

Bender's grin confirmed that when she showed up on the steps. The fact that he'd been sitting there smoking a cigarette waiting for her confirmed it. She grinned back, and they went into the school.

Vernon had given up at this point. He just saw the two of them, rolled his eyes, and left the library, shutting the doors behind him. Bender laughed when he left. Allison sort of... squeaked, happily.

'So,' said Bender, leaning back in his chair and smirking at her. 'How's your pledge to not drink going?'

She snorted.

'I had a glass of wine last night.'

'Awh, your lack of conviction is inspiring,' he said, still smirking. She swatted him with her sleeve. He winked at her.

'Let's get the fuck of here.'

* * *

Their escape from the library was epic. It involved the ventilation, of course; Bender was getting far to familiar with that particular part of the school. Once they were out, they headed for the gym. The equipment room was easy enough to break in to, and yielded a plethora of goodies.

'Die scum!'

A dodge ball flew past Allison's head, and her eyes widened. She grabbed up another and hurled it back at Bender, giggling. He caught it, and flung it back. To her surprise her hands automatically flew up to grab it from the air. Maybe all those years of gym hadn't been wasted after all.

She skipped to the basketball hoop, and tried to shoot the ball, but she missed her mark, just catching the bottom of the net. She grabbed another ball, and was going to try again, when she suddenly felt hands on her thighs, and let out a noise between a gasp and a squeal of fear as Bender lifted her up to the hoop.

'Fuck yeah!' she said, dunking the ball and grabbing hold of the rim. Bender slowly let her go, leaving her hanging here, and came around the back of the hoop to see her face. She was grinning wildly.

'First basket I've made in my entire life,' she whispered, and then laughed, swinging her legs so that her body swayed back and forth a little. Her fingers were started to hurt, but hanging up there was kind of giving her a little rush. The hoop was straining; she thought it might just snap off at any moment.

'Congratulations,' said Bender, wryly, raising his eyebrow. After a moment, however, he just snorted softly with a chuckle, and reached up to wrap his arms around her legs to help her down.

She had the strangest sense of vertigo as she slid down Bender's body. His hands carefully worked their way up the back of her thighs, her bum, and then the small of her back, so she would be lowered slowly.

They were almost at eye-level when she realised how close their faces were. She could see stubble on his chin, in patches. She could smell his breath. She realised she was just looking at the end of his nose, and forced herself to look upward into his eyes. They were staring right back when she got there.

Abruptly, she grabbed his face and kissed him hard on the mouth.

For all of a split second, Bender was surprised. He got over it quickly, though. He let her fall the last few inches to the ground, and pulled her into him by the lapels of her black sweater, his mouth frantic on hers. That damn sweater. Was the thing going to make an appearance every time?

_Every time?_

What did that mean?

And who cared, really?

He turned and pushed her against the wall that was covered in blue mats. He loved the way her body stretched and squirmed happily when he kissed her neck, and thumb grazed over the front of her sweater.

It must have occurred to them that the gym was far to open and easily accessible for this sort of thing. They ran back to the equipment room.

They barely made it there with their clothes.


	12. Chapter 12

Sundays were Allison's lazy days. This one was no exception. She sat in her bed, blankets bunched up around her feet, and her knees drawn up to her chest so she could doodle on them with a ballpoint pen.

She was thinking absently about Bender. And sex with Bender. In the equipment room. And later in the library. And later in the van.

It was really a damn good thing he seemed to have an endless supply of condoms.

He wasn't her first. He was almost her first. Sometimes he felt like her first. The experience felt more genuine, anyway. Because her first time had been with Andy. And she was starting to think it really didn't count.

It was just different. Sex with Andy was like... well, it was like a relationship with Andy. It never quite fit just right.

She smiled at her knees as she doodled to that thought.

It just wasn't the same. With Andy, she always felt like... some specific form was expected, or something. Like she had to hold something back. He wasn't bad at it, really. And he had made sure she was okay, and that she was having a good time. But it just reminded her, looking back on it now, of the day they broke up, and how he acted when his friends were there. She was careful when she and Andy had sex. She was paying close attention to everything she did and how it affected him. And that was distracting. And she felt like she was trying so hard not to be weird, it was almost pointless.

With Bender, restriction didn't exist. With him it wasn't thinking, it was just doing. Feeling. If she wanted to bite him and make odd noises and grab his hair or shoulder bones or arms, she did.

Maybe part of that freedom came from not worrying about a break-up. If they weren't dating, they couldn't break up. There were no conditions. There was no prerequisite. They just did whatever they felt like.

She had never expected that for herself. But to be honest, she didn't really know what she had ever expected for herself. Dating hadn't seemed like something she'd ever do. Having a fuck buddy didn't seem like something she'd ever do. But it was happening. And she found herself strangely okay with it.

She didn't know if Bender was having sex with other girls. She found she didn't really want to know. But the possibility didn't seem to bother her too much. If she ended up having sex with another guy soon, something that right now she couldn't see herself ever doing (but look how good her foresight had been in the past), she would think that was perfectly acceptable. And she would think, and hope, that Bender would be okay with it.  
Her knees were filling up fast. They were almost completely covered in little squiggles and spirals and stick men. She decided she might as well get out of bed and so something.

Maybe she'd go for a drive.

* * *

**A/N**: SAFE SEX KIDDOS. But for real. The line about the condoms is corny and silly sounding, but it's vitally important. If you're going to be having sex, do so responsibly and safely. It's your choice to be having sex, but you need to protect yourself.

This has been a public service announcement. Use da condom. Do it.

P.S. More and better coming soon!


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: Hey guys, you've been so patient, thank you so much. Life's been happening, trying to get my shit together for school, trying to move, it's a pain. I intend to finish this fic, though.**

**This chapter is going to contain self-harm and some pretty intense scenes, some violence. Please, please, please, if you have problems with self-harm triggers or violence triggers, even sexual assault triggers, please proceed with caution.**

* * *

Her day was going to fucking blow.

Allison didn't know why, particularly. She had woken up with this feeling like she had a whole house on top of her chest, and she was surprised to feel wetness in the corners of her eyes.

She went downstairs after getting dressed. Her mom was still in her bathrobe, sitting at the kitchen table, eating cereal. Allison went and poured herself a bowl, and sat down quietly. Her dad was leaning against the counter reading a newspaper. Neither of them looked at her once.

'I'm going to school,' she announced. Nothing.

'I'm taking the van,' she continued. 'It's been running pretty well.

Her dad grunted in acknowledgement. Her mom nodded silently, staring vacantly into her cereal.

Allison scoffed and stormed out of the kitchen, then out of the house.

* * *

School was a nightmare. There were people everywhere. Usually Allison could deal with people being everywhere. Or mostly could. Today, she wanted to curl up and sleep, all day. But she couldn't. There was this sucking feeling in her chest, to replace the heaviness of the house, and that wasn't going away, either.

She'd had days like this before. But they hadn't happened in a while. This one was worse than even the last few she'd remembered having. There was no reason, it was just there.

She drew in most of her classes. She drew a tree. It was a willow, with long, long branches that hung limply from the crown. Under the willow, there was an unmarked grave. Halfway through the day, she decided to change it up, and drew the willow with it's limbs flying upwards into the air. The she drew a cat clinging to the side of the tree. But she drew the scene from the cat onward as if gravity had been reversed, and he was trying not to fall up into the sky.

A couple of periods after lunch, she felt so panicked she thought she'd lose it. She skipped out on her next class, and headed straight for the bathroom.

She went into one of the stalls, and looked underneath, down the row, to make sure no one was there. Then, she turned around abruptly and slammed her fist into the brick wall above the toilet. She clenched her teeth, and did it again, and again. She started alternating fists. The more she hit the wall, the more numb her knuckles and fists became.

When she realised that she was leaving blood on the wall, she stopped.

She looked at her fists. A moment later, they were on fire.

She went out to the sink, and ran cold water. Her hands stung like crazy when she put them under the stream, but she was thinking about the wall and how dirty it must be.

After a few minutes, the water started running clear, and she withdrew her hands. Amazingly enough, she didn't have anything to wrap them in with her. Maybe there was something in the van. If not, they would be fine as long as she didn't mess with them.

She went to the door of the bathroom, looked cautiously out into the hall, and ascertained that there was no immediate threat of being caught. As quietly as she could, she made her way toward the nearest door.

Miraculously, she managed to get to her van without having to talk to anyone. She hopped into the back, and started tossing pillows aside in search of something to use as a bandage.

She found an old t-shirt she'd thrown in there one night when she went to spend the night in the van by herself. She was sure it was clean. It had to be. She began a little tear with her teeth, and started to shred it.

Maybe if anyone saw it, they would think it was some funky fashion thing of hers. She considered this while she wrapped. Like fingerless gloves or something. Like... a bandana. For your hands.

She only had one more class left. It probably wasn't worth going to, but she had been missing a lot of school lately. She inspected her hands carefully, pressing down firmly on the cloth to make sure no blood would seep through, and then sighed, and leaned back against the side of the van to wait for the bell that signalled the end of the current period.

The panic was gone. But the sucking feeling in her chest had come back.

* * *

She found Bender after the last bell. She knew where his locker was by now. She hadn't seen him in a couple of days. He looked fairly well, no new cuts or bruises or scrapes. He was walking normally. His hands were bandage free.

'Hey,' he said when he saw her approaching, as he slammed his locker shut. 'What's up?'

'Can I come home with you?'

Bender stared at her blankly.

'Come home with me?'

'Yeah, I mean...' she paused, looking sideways as she chewed her words. 'I mean, I just... don't want to go home.'

'So you want to go to my house?' asked Bender, incredulously. 'I mean, you've been to my house before, right?'

'Yeah,' she said, in a very small voice, and it almost seemed as if she curled inward. Maybe it had been a bad idea and she should just go home and shut herself up in her room.

Bender was quiet for a moment more. He looked down at her, and then his eyes trailed down to the cloth wrapped around her hands. He blew some air out of the corner of his mouth.

'Sure,' he said. 'C'mon, let's go.'

* * *

Bender's house was just as she remembered it. It even smelled the exact same. Except there was a definite lack of Bender Sr. sitting on the couch this time. Allison's van was the only car in the driveway. She couldn't say she wasn't relieved about it.

Bender dumped his stuff in his room, and then came back out, and looked around the living room, his expression looking like he was contemplating something.

'I'm gonna jump in the shower,' he said finally. 'You okay for a minute?'

She nodded, sitting down on the couch. She remembered his father sitting in the same spot, and she scooted over until she was squished in the corner.

The sound of the bathroom door shutting made her head snap up, and her eyes jump toward the hallway where Bender disappeared. She took a deep breath, and released it, and the release was ragged. She was starting to think maybe she should have just gone home. Sure, there was no rational reason for her to think that, but she was becoming more and more uncomfortable.

That feeling tripled as she heard a car pull into the driveway.

She almost went to hide in Bender's room, but she was frozen. She heard the shower running in the bathroom; it didn't stop. She gripped the shoulder strap of her bag anxiously.

The door opened, and Bender Sr. walked in. His eyes found her after he took off his coat. She noticed then that they were the exact same colour as his sons, and for some reason, that didn't help matters at all.

'Is, uh... is that your van, out there?' Bender's dad asked, his voice slightly hoarse and abrupt.

'Yeah,' she said. 'Is it in the way.'

'Nah,' he replied, walking into the kitchen and throwing his coat over a chair at the kitchen table. 'Nah, it's fine.'

He pulled open the fridge, and grabbed a beer.

'Want one?' he asked, looking over his shoulder at her.

'Um, no, thanks,' she replied, almost in a whisper. The shower was still going.

He grunted in response, and then came over to the couch. He sat down not a foot from her, and Allison wondered if she should move.

'What's your name?' he asked her, and his eyes did that up-and-down, elevator thing over her again. Her grip on her bag tightened, and her knuckles stung.

'Allison.'

'Allison,' he repeated, before taking a long swig of beer. 'Pretty name.'

'Thanks.'

Another long gulp of beer.

'My son doesn't usually bring such pretty girls back to the house,' Bender Sr. continued, his eye on her again. She didn't say anything in reply. She didn't know what she should say.

He scooted even closer toward her on the couch.

The shower stopped.

'I should probably go,' Allison started saying, trying to weigh the impulse to flee against the fact that Bender would probably be out of the shower in a minute.

'Don't go yet,' said Bender's father, his voice even more hoarse now. He was full on leaning toward her, and close enough that she could smell his breath. 'Stick around for a minute...'

'_HEY_!'

Bender was out of the shower. He was standing there, still dripping, wearing just his jeans, and not even buttoned at that. Allison noticed the bruises over his ribs were almost healed, right before she managed to look up into his face. And he looked furious.

'Get the fuck away from her.'

Bender Sr. pulled back, and stood up, still holding his beer.

'What did you just say to me boy?'

Allison stood up as well, and edged to the door. Her heart had apparently migrated to her throat, and it was going strong, beating away wildly.

Bender didn't reply to his father, he just stood there, looking angry.

'I said, _what did you say?!_'

'Allison,' said Bender, not yet taking his eyes off his father to look at her, 'we should go. Go start the van.'

'You're not going anywhere until I see some _respect_ outta you,' growled Bender's father. 'And maybe she doesn't want to go anywhere either.'

Bender made a noise between a shout and a growl and jumped at his father, throwing a wild punch. All he really managed to do with knock the beer out of his hand and throw off his father's balance. The beer bottle crashed as it hit the floor, and Bender Sr. lost no time in throwing his son off him, and onto the floor. Allison squeaked, and realised she had stepped backwards into the door. The handle was pressing hard into her lower back, but she barely noticed, really.

Bender was back on his feet, but his dad threw a terrible punch that caught him in the side of the head, right near the corner of his eye. He stumbled backwards, and his dad went in again, and this time got him in the gut. Allison felt like she might have squeaked again, she wasn't sure.

His dad was yelling something. She was trying to block it out. But then something happened, and Bender caught his breath; he sucked it in through his teeth, and then shoved his dad, hard, towards the television.

Allison closed her eyes, but she heard the crash. It was deafening, like some warped thunderclap from less than twelve feet away. She suddenly felt a hand wrap around her wrist, and it was tugging at her. She opened her eyes in time to see Bender's father stirring, surrounded by glass and shattered bits of plastic, before Bender opened the door, and the sunlight blinded her.

* * *

'You didn't have to.'

They were sitting upstairs in Allison's house, in her room. She had never been happier to see her parents' cars gone from the driveway. She had grabbed chips, and two glasses of water, and, once Bender was in her room, she'd gone into her parent's closet and found him a t-shirt that would fit.

He didn't say anything. He just glared at her, and ate a chip.

'I'm serious,' she went on. Her eyes were on her hands in her lap. She was picking at the loose threads of a strip of t-shirt fabric still wrapped around her fingers. 'You...'

She trailed off. She didn't really know why she was talking at all. She'd made it worse, honestly. She shouldn't have asked to come home with Bender. She should have just sucked it up and gone back to her house and her room and her thoughts and not dragged him into it.

She was startled when he grabbed her left hand, pulled it toward him, and started unwrapping it. She almost pulled back, but she was frozen, again. That seemed to be the story today.

When he was done with her left hand, he grabbed her right, and started unwrapping that. She'd bleed more out of that one, and she hissed when he pulled the last bit of fabric away from the scrapes and it stuck a little.

He took both of her hands, and looked at them for a moment, in complete silence. Then, without warning, he dropped her hands, grabbed her face, and kissed her, hard.

She leaned into it, moving the chips from their place on the bed between them. Her hands wrapped around the back of his neck, and she broke away and pressed her forehead against his.

'I would have fucking killed him,' Bender breathed, and she could feel his muscles tensing as if he intended just that at this very moment.

'I know,' she whispered back, running her fingers down the back of his neck, gently. 'But you didn't have to do that.'

He kissed her again, hard. He pulled her toward him and practically into his lap. She pulled away again, and looked him in the eye.

'But I... I'm really glad you did.'


End file.
